HE CAME HOME TO FIND HIS SIX-YEAR-OLD WASHING EVERYONE'S DISHES — THEN HER MOTHER'S NAME CAME OUT OF AN ENVELOPE

Mauricio didn't go home. He knew his townhouse wasn't secure anymore. He drove straight to the underground parking garage of his own corporate headquarters, ushering Renata into his private, biometric-locked executive suite. He instructed his personal assistant to lock the doors, draw the blinds, and order whatever ice cream the little girl wanted.

Then, Mauricio took the private elevator down to the 40th floor.

The headquarters of Jacobs Enterprises was a sprawling monument to his father's ruthless ambition. Glass walls, modern art, and terrified executives scurrying like ants.

Mauricio walked past the reception desk without stopping. The receptionist called out his name, but he ignored her. He marched down the long, plush corridor toward the CEO's massive corner office.

Two security guards stood outside the double doors. When they saw Mauricio's face, they wisely stepped aside.

Mauricio kicked the heavy mahogany doors open.

Arthur Jacobs was sitting behind his massive desk, holding a crystal glass of scotch, laughing quietly into a telephone. When the doors slammed open, Arthur frowned, slowly hanging up the receiver.

"I heard there was a misunderstanding at the school," Arthur said smoothly, not looking the least bit guilty. He took a sip of his scotch. "You are becoming incredibly dramatic, Mauricio. It was a simple miscommunication."

Mauricio walked into the center of the office. He didn't yell. He didn't throw anything. The absolute, terrifying calm radiating from him was far more intimidating.

"Camilla Vance," Mauricio said quietly.

Arthur completely froze. The glass of scotch stopped halfway to his mouth. For the first time in his life, Mauricio saw genuine, unadulterated fear flash across his father's arrogant face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur lied, his voice tight.

"You murdered her, Arthur," Mauricio continued, stepping closer to the desk. "You paid a nurse to overdose her in the ICU, and then you stole the trust documents from her bag while her heart stopped."

Arthur slammed his glass down on the desk, the amber liquid splashing over the rim.

"You have absolutely no proof of that!" Arthur roared, standing up. "You are listening to conspiracy theories! I built this empire with my own hands!"

"I have the nurse on tape," Mauricio stated coldly. "And I sent the audio file to the FBI an hour ago."

Arthur's face drained of all color, turning a sickly, ashen gray. He staggered backward, collapsing into his heavy leather chair as the reality of his total destruction finally crashed down upon him.

"You turned on your own blood?" Arthur whispered, staring at his son in horror. "For a child that isn't even yours?"

"She is mine," Mauricio promised fiercely. "But she is also the rightful heir to the Sterling-Vance fortune. A fortune you tried to steal by manipulating me into adopting her."

Arthur desperately grabbed his desk phone, frantically dialing his legal team.

Before the call could even connect, the heavy oak doors of the office swung open again.